


Ironheart

by Ram92



Series: Legacy [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AIs, Adult Morgan Stark, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Ironheart, Marvel Universe, Morgan Stark-centric (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Avengers: Secret Wars, not an au, what if
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2020-10-11 04:50:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20540390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ram92/pseuds/Ram92
Summary: It's been almost twelve years since the Demise, the mysterious disappearance of all the known superheroes and villains alike.Morgan H. Stark is still trying to find her place in this lonely and somewhat boring universe, and the idea of becoming a CEO doesn't suit her at all.





	1. Prologue

The old garage covered in dust was her favourite place. When mom wasn’t looking, she would sneak onto the stairs and merge with darkness until her eyes got used to it. It had to be planned ahead, as taking the key from the jar over the fridge wasn’t all that easy when you’re just about 3 feet and a half.  
  
Shards of pale light filtered through the shattered windows casting a shade of light on the white sheets. Tiptoeing on the dust, Morgan grabbed one of the sheets and looked beneath it. Cables and shiny metal glimmered in the uncertain light. The child followed the line of a copper wire with a finger, tapping gently on the motherboard underneath. Her father used to spend hours designing them on the projector. She could still remember his face shining in the blue light of his latest idea. She let the sheet fall again and moved to the next one.  
  
It was a big one, covered in dust in a dark corner of the room. When she peered under the sheet, her eyes caught no metal gleam. Morgan frowned, then pulled the cloth until it fell on the floor. A big grey case stood in front of her. In the darkness, she couldn’t see any sort of latches or locks. She let her fingers explore tentatively the lateral edges, but she found nothing. The surface of the case was as smooth as a computer screen. The kid glanced the box with disappointment. That’s when she noticed the writing. Two letters, in red.  
  
<< I, M. >> she spelled slowly, squinting in the effort.  
  
Her frown dropped as it dawned on her.  
  
<< Iron Man! >>  
  
The case opened with a hiss and the cover fell at her feet.  
  
Morgan backed off. A giant red robot huddled to fit the case stared at her with its empty eyes as holograms of a control board lit and shone in the dark.  
  
<< Mom! >>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> This is my first fanfiction in English, which is not my mother language. I'd be extremely grateful if you could help me with my English, so please correct me when I'm wrong and feel free to comment and advice! 
> 
> \- M.


	2. Chapter one: 10 A.M. Automatic

The sun was up and it shone through the window wall. Among screwdrivers, tweezers and book notes full of sketches, Morgan was shamelessly asleep with her face squished on the desk, when the music kicked in. At the sound of 10 A.M. Automatic by Black Keys, the girl opened her eyes and grumbled.

<< Good morning, almighty creator. >> said a female voice coming from nowhere, with a vague hint of sarcasm.

<< Mornin’. >> yawned Morgan scratching her head.

A warm cup of coffee was waiting next to the stove. Morgan grabbed it and threw the empty mug in the sink. She took some time to contemplate the moderate chaos around her. Old scattered microchips lied on the floor, notes sketched on them. And the last born was not just metaphorically shining in its case, hit by a sunbeam. Morgan had another good sip of coffee and frowned. It was about time to try that new baby on.

The music was suddenly turned down.

<< Incoming call. >> announced the automated voice.

Morgan snorted and gulped at the same time and almost choked.

<< Incoming call. >> the voice insisted. << And I believe you’d better answer this one. >>

<< Shut up, Oscar. >> exhaled the girl coughing.

<< As you please. >> replied the Operative System for Calls, Arrangements and Random stuff cockishly.

_Too_ cockishly, Morgan realized.

<< Moe, where are you? >>

Happy’s voice crashed in the room like the Titanic as a black screen appeared on the window wall.

Morgan skipped out of the coffee puddle and peeked at the what was left in the mug. She definitely needed more than that.

<< Oscar, make some more coffee. >>

A low buzzing sound came from a roundy little thing that had been sleeping on a corner. With the tip of her toe, Morgan moved gently the old microchips a little further away as the little thing buzzed towards the spilled coffee.

<< Are you still at coffee?! >>

<< Are you still at audio calls? >> she replied, sitting back in her chair and staring at the black hole in front of her. << Jeez, I guess Stark Industries is really falling behind these days.>>

<< Cut the tech bullshit and get ready. I’m coming over. >>

Happy’s voice sounded crabby as usual, but usually he didn’t care  _that_ much about her daily routine.

<< Your mother is really gonna kill you this time. >>

<< Call ended. >>

The music got back on.

It took Morgan a couple of seconds to catch up.

<< Shit. >>

<< What’s wrong with you? >> asked Happy as she got on the car.

<< I forgot. >>

<< You always forget. >>

Morgan didn’t drive often. It was not like she couldn’t, nor even like she didn’t like it. It was just that she usually didn’t want to go where she was supposed to. Then she’d rather have someone else at the wheel. Read as Happy.

<< It’s just not my thing. >> she said scrolling through the hundreds of mails she should had already read on the pad screen.

She tried to switch the music on, but Happy turned it off again.

<< What do you mean, it’s not your thing? What is your thing? Apart from locking yourself home. >> he said without taking his eyes off the road. << You know your mother relies on you for this. >>

<< Oh, does she? >>

Happy even dared to lose sight of the road to glare at her. She ignored it, apparently absorbed by her emails.

<< You know... >> Happy stammered, a clear incoming heart to heart conversation symptom. << Not even your father liked being a CEO, he was pretty terrible at that to be honest. But when he left everything into Obadiah’s hands... well, you know what happened. And then he found someone he could trust for that, I mean someone he could really trust. You could do the same, if you want... and just keep in touch, show your face from time to time, like... >>

<< “Like for the opening speech for the Expo and that sort of stuff.” >> quoted Morgan by heart.

<< Exactly. >>

Morgan had already given more than a thought to Happy’s words. She had even tried to give the opening speech, once, even though everyone seemed to have forgotten. Well, not exactly everyone. Her grandma had kept telling her how  _adorable_ she had been until the day she died. She had seen it on tv, of course. Like thousands of others. It was her first public appearance. She hadn’t raised her eyes from the speech not even for an instant, and then she had cowered away from the stage as quickly as she could. Quite a disappointment for all her father’s fans.

<< I’m afraid that’s not my kind of stuff either. >>

<< ... the drop in profitability seems to be reconfirmed after last year short break.>>

That’s when Happy pushed her in and everybody stared at her as she stood by the door for a long embarrassing instant.

<< Thanks, Mr Denton. >> Virginia Potts’ voice sounded colder than ever. << If nobody else has anything to add, I would call the meeting over for today. >>

A short silence filled with quiet coughing and glances followed.

<< Well, then, I’ll see you all next month. >>

Chairs shuffled, voices murmured and Morgan moved away from the door to let the little gathering pass through. Most of them nodded at her and she tried, lamely, to fake a smile in return.

<< Is that Morgan Stark? >> she heard someone whisper.

She tried to ignore that, she had more pressing problems at hand. Her mother was gathering her papers in a folder deliberately avoiding to look in her direction. Morgan considered the fact she could made it for a run, but she wouldn’t dare. No one escaped Virginia Potts.

<< Where were you? >> she finally began.

<< At home, I... >>

<< You forgot. >>

Morgan bit her lower lip.

<< I’m sorry... >>

<< Morgan, I’m not going to ask you this again. Do you plan on taking up Stark Industries or not? >>

<< Mom, I... >> their eyes met for a second and Morgan look away as if she could find the words somewhere in the empty room. << I don’t think I’m ready for this. >>

<< Of course you’re not. >> replied her mother sternly. << But you’re legally an adult now and this is one of those jobs you learn by doing. >>

<< I’ve been supervising Barstow Electronics for the last year and we have developed the only project that had been an actual success in the last five years, isn’t that anything to you? >>

Morgan still couldn’t believe she had accepted to hand over her modified blueprints of the O.S.C.A.R.s system to those guys. Of course, she had stripped the most interesting stuff from it and personally supervised all the following corrections carried over by Barstow’s staff. The Personalized AI Project, they called it. For a leading technology industry, they definitely lacked imagination. Anyway, the product sold impressively and, as for her participation, not even her mother could deny that something like that was progress.

<< You know I appreciated it. >> she was forced to admit. << But this company needs a prospective CEO and it needs it soon enough for me to teach you how to do it or to plan the dismemberment of the whole thing. >>

<< But why does it have to be me? >> Morgan finally found the courage to ask. << Can’t you go on for some more years? Or nominate a sort of ruling CEO for the time being until I feel ready? >>

<< So, that’s your plan? Finding someone who would gladly go all the trouble of handling all of this until one day, on a wimp, you finally change your mind and ask them to kindly hand it over to you? Why should anyone with good intentions do that? >>

<< It could be someone you can trust... >> ventured Morgan.

<< We’ve been through this before, and you know what happened. I’ve been running this company for more than thirty years because it bears your father’s name and I won’t let it fall in wrong hands again. But I can’t keep on working like this forever. If you’re not going to start showing your face round here I will be forced to shut it all down. >>

Morgan looked at her mother. She had something to say. And it was time to say it.

<< What if we let an AI do that? >> she blurted out.

Ms Potts’ eyes glazed with a weird light.

<< I have given this a thought... You know, Oscar is doing pretty well with my bank account, utilities and this sort of stuff... >>

<< Stop it. >>

<< I’ve started working on a new prototype based on a system that is similar to Oscar's, but I upgraded it with new data coming from Stark Industries itself. I’ve been testing it for a couple of months now and, decisionwise, the results seem to match with... >>

<< I won’t let an AI run my company. >> said Ms Potts stiffening.

<< Why don’t you give it a try? Just for a few days, you would always have the last word on any decision, if you don’t agree. >>

<< I won’t let an AI run my company. >>

<< Why? You let Tadashi run your house and Friday help with Stark Industries already, so what’s the difference? Except that I developed it instead of my father, I mean. >> Morgan realised her mistake the minute her mother heard the last sentence, but she didn’t care anymore.

<< The difference is that they wouldn’t trust it just like they wouldn’t trust you. That’s because they... >>

<< I was right, then. >> she snapped as their voices overlapped. 

<< ...don’t know you, because... >>

<< That’s because I’m not my father. >>

<< ...you’re not there. >>

Their sentences ended at the same moment. They looked at each other in silence for a long moment in which Morgan struggled with all her might to face her mother’s eyes without caving, ready for the shouting that was about to begin. It was almost a shock, then, when she saw her giving up.

<< I’m too tired for this. >> said Ms Potts, walking past her daughter.

Morgan felt like paralyzed, she couldn’t tell if by anger or surprise, and didn’t even turn around.

<< I would like to have your report on the applicants at the MIT by the end of the month. >> she heard her say. << Always if that’s not too much trouble for you. >>

She reached for the nearest bathroom and locked herself in.

She sat on the toilet bowl and stared at the door, her fingers clenched to her arms to the point of pain. She didn’t need to cry or to do anything particular. She just sat and focussed on her breathing. She just couldn’t get out of there and meet people as if nothing had happened. She couldn’t meet Happy and she knew him enough to know that he would have come looking for her pretty soon.

Time went by, women came in and went out again, she heard them wash their hands, flush the toilets, open and close the door, wash their hands again.

<< I heard you were at the meeting today. >>

Morgan breathed in for the umpteenth time.

<< Is that true that Morgan Stark finally made it? >>

Morgan breathed out.

<< Only for the last few seconds. I finally got to see her, though. >>

<< Does she at least look like her father? >>

Finally someone who hadn’t actually seen the opening of Expo 2037.

<< Not even that much, to be honest. >>

It was almost closing time when Happy found her in the bathroom, sitting on the floor.

He sat beside her and contemplated the sinks and mirrors on the wall with her for a couple of seconds.

<< Cheeseburgers? >> he proposed then.

<< Okay. >>

They got up and walked back to the car.


	3. Chapter two: Fashionably Late

She was already at the door, when she looked back. The door of the lab was open, the sun was shining in it, and she had caught a glitter coming from the case sitting on her desk with the corner of her eye. She just didn’t have time for that at the moment.

<< Bye Oscar. Keep them all safe. >>

<< It gets pretty easy when the major threat walks out the door. >>

<< Love you too. >>

Morgan walked out the door and saw Happy waiting for her in the car. After the last meeting, he had made a point of honour getting her wherever on time.

<< We’re gonna have to run like hell now. >> he greeted her. << It’d be much easier if you could just be ready at the agreed time for once. >>

<< Don’t you know that true ladies are always fashionably late? >>

<< I’ve seen you puking your guts out on your first hangover, don’t get me any true lady bullshit now. >>

The man had a point.

The car raced past a traffic light that had just turned red. Somewhere in the city there was a private jet already waiting for them.

  
It had been a long day so far.

Morgan yawned and peered at the screen of her pad under the stern look of John Logan, Head Master of the MIT. Happy nudged her and she put it down.

<< My applicant, Miss Riri Williams, doesn’t seem to be here yet. >> announced the appointed supervisor, clearly embarrassed. << But I’m sure that she will be here in a matter of... >>

<< The committee has already waited too long for today. >> commented the Head, darting his eyes at Morgan who was tapping on her little screen again. << I call the presentation of the applicants for the September Foundation over, if all the parties agree. >>

<< Okay. >> Morgan conceded without raising her eyes. << Let’s call it a day. >>

The Headmaster grumbled under his voice and everybody got up, ready to leave.

<< What are you doing? >> hissed Happy probably thinking that nobody would notice. << Put away that gizmo and try to behave like you know what you’re doing. >>

<< I know what I’m doing. I’m working. >> replied young Stark flickering her finger and bringing up an holographic display. << You haven’t met Sinbad, I reckon. >>

The display framed Happy’s face and uploaded his features, much to his annoyance, who hastily gestured trying to scramble it away.

<< I’m sorry... >>

The disheveled face of a teenage girl had appeared from behind the door.

Sinbad immediately framed it and the name ‘Riri Williams’ and a series of details appeared under the snapshot.

<< Is this the committee for the September Foundation? >>

<< Not anymore. >> hastened Logan.

Morgan caught the girl’s supervisor mouthing ‘I’m sorry’.

<< Well, the main donor is still here. >> she ventured.

Many pairs of eyes turned in her direction.

<< ...and all the rest of the committee too. >> she added unsteadily. << I don’t see why we can’t give the girl a try. Nothing is more important than the potential of next generation, isn’t it? >> she anticipated the Head before he had the chance to reply.

After a short hesitation, some of the members of the committee sat back in their chairs and everyone else followed. Mr Logan took his time, and Morgan took even longer. In the end, she sat deliberately slowly.

The supervisor prompted the girl.

<< My project... >> she said, beginning to rummage inside her backpack. << My project was inspired by the work of the late Mr Stark, the founder of this foundation. >>

Morgan moved uncomfortably on her seat, starting to regret her gesture already.

<< In particular, I’ve always been particularly impressed by his research on nanotech and the way he used it to develop his latest suits of armour and, eventually, even the gauntlet which... >>

Happy noisily cleared his throat.

The girl looked confused for an instant and let the sentence drop.

<< Anyway, >> she pressed on. << starting from the reconstruction of a prototype inspired by the Mark 85, I have studied the molecular structure of the armour and tried to develop it even further. >>

The girl took a small spherical remote out of her bag and clicked it. The blueprint of a familiar-looking suit appeared in mid-air.

<< Theoretically, the whole point of nanotechnology is that its development is potentially infinite, as potentially infinite is the possible reduction of the workable size of materials. >>

The image zoomed with a simple touch revealing the underlying structure of the particles.

<< Already in the first month of research allowed to prepare this presentation, it has been possible to achieve a sensible increase in the gradient of extension reached by the stretched materials. The result is a fabric capable of self-alteration in size and shape which can easily adapt to practically any physical body it should make contact with. >>

A tiny circle of what looked like a shining titanium screen was now in the palm of the girl’s hand as she showed it to the committee.

<< Just like it was for Mark 85, it is enough to press on the screen to release the particles and let them adapt to the hosting body. >>

A double tap of her finger and the girl’s skin and clothes covered instantaneously with a sort of silver scales starting from her hand to the top of her sneakers and curly hair, hiding it all behind a painfully familiar shape. Another couple of taps and the scales began to quickly retract to their original position inside the silvery display.

<< The suit is designed to leave a breathing space between the layer of particles and the hosting body. >>

Happy was staring, his jaw hanging loose from the rest of his face. He didn’t even notice that the girl had moved towards him.

<< This prevents both the hosting body from choking and the particles to infiltrate the body itself. >>

She put her tiny hand on Happy’s arm and smiled at him briefly. Then she pressed the screen onto him.

<< As you can see, the armour can adapt to a wide range of sizes. >> she kept explaining, as a huge panicking silver armour appeared beside her for an instant. She tapped on the screen again and Happy came back to his normal features, breathing heavily.

<< Given the right circumstances, it can even adapt to a completely different shape. >>

The table under the committee’s glasses of water and cups of coffee had its moment. Some professors timidly reached out and touched it, clearly impressed. A clanging sound came from someone’s knocking.

Morgan looked at the girl smiling in front of her. The silver screen was lying right between them.

<< May I... ? >>

<< Of course. >>

Morgan reached out with her hand. A double tap and the scales sheltered back under the display cover. She took it and considered how light it felt. Then an idea popped in her mind.

<< How much can it cover right now? >>

<< About 2000 square ft, more or less. >>

Morgan took a look around the room, then reached for the wall behind her and tapped. Everything went dark except for the blue glowing of Simbad and the girl’s holographic presentation. It was like a giant cocoon, except that, technically, they were outside it. More like a shield than an armour. Morgan wondered how resilient the fabric could be. Could it take a bullet? Or a laser hit? Would it bounce it back? Could it absorb the hitting energy?

She gave a quick glance to Sinbad. It was plainly recording, no registered reaction to the armour in any of its shapes. Just an empty suit. Or shield. Whatever.

The professors started to move uneasily on their seats.

<< I think that’s enough. >> suggested Mr Logan with a hint of ill-concealed tension in his voice.

Morgan shook herself off her thoughts and double tapped the scales back. In a second, the sun was shining from the window wall again.

<< Sorry, I got carried away. >> she said returning the display to the girl. << Anyway, impressive job. >> she added noticing that the girl was staring at her with eager eyes.

<< Would you like to try it on? >>

<< I’m sorry? >>

There she got it. The girl was looking at her with  _expectation_ .

The room suddenly felt too silent.

<< I’m sorry, I’m.. I’m... >> she stammered looking for something not too stupid to say. << Not really a suit person. >> ...and failed.

<< Well, I think we’ve heard enough. >> intruded, blessedly, Mr Logan. << Professors, Miss Stark, >> he added with mocking reverence. << I expect your reports on the applicants by the end of the week. And now let’s go back to some serious work before wasting anymore... >>

Morgan was not really listening.

<< Sinbad, stop recording. >> she whispered activating her earplug. << Start data elaboration. Send me the draft of the report for revision so I have something to read tonight. >>

<< I don’t like it. >>

<< What? >>

Up to this point, it had been a silent journey. Happy had been quiet as much as Morgan distracted.

<< That girl. That sort of... armour. >> he burst out. << She shouldn’t be messing around with things she doesn’t understand. >>

<< Well, she seems to understand quite a lot, to be honest. >>

<< That’s not what I mean. I mean... Tony... your father... that was... >>

Morgan sighed. He could go on stammering like that forever.

<< I know what you mean. >> 

She actually did. 

_...since research on green energy has been the highlight of both MIT and Stark Industries’..._

Morgan was pretty sure she had already read that sentence at least twice. And she couldn’t really blame Sinbad on its writing style. It was spotless, of course. As such was the matrix she had first uploaded on its system. 

She flung the whole twenty seven page thing over the bed and got up, headed for the kitchen. Nothing better than a midnight snack when you couldn’t sleep.

She groped her way down the stairs and stood, her hand still on the banister. Her eyes had rambled to the lab on their own accord.

<< Oscar, switch on the lights in the lab. >>

<< Isn’t it a bit late for... >>

<< Mute. >>

The microchip glimmered in its case, mirroring the lights around it. A round little thing as bis as a penny. Her own design, loosely based on fading memories.

She inserted it on the board. A blue light shone through as it switched on, its circuits terminations slightly visible on the edges.

Morgan’s hand hesitated in mid-air. It was time. It was going to be another failure, anyway. 

She tapped gently on the shining circle and, despite her best effort to remain skeptical, held her breath.

The mechanism dragged the chip down and secured it with a low clinging sound. The whole thing turned to a lighter, almost whitish shade of blue.

<< Still up, Little Miss? >> the voice quickly tuned up and lost its metallic resonance. 

The holographic projection appeared on the other side of the desk.

<< Don’t tell me. Juice pops again? >> it added, tilting its head a little.

The combination of a smirk and a frown wrestled on its face for a while.

<< You know, I’ve been told that regular human beings usually sleep at night. Insomnia must be a Stark trait, sorry for that. >> it went on as its eyes drifted around the room. << Nice lab, though. Very... window-y, not that useful at night, I guess, but still... >>

Its eyes raced back to the staring human being at the other end of the table.

<< Ok, first, you need to breathe, Maguna. >>

Something had changed.

That was bound to happen, given infinity as a deadline.

Something was back. 

It was time for all of them to go back.


	4. Chapter three: Iron Man

<< Very important human function, breathing. Vital, I’d say. Funny for me to talk about that now... >>

<< It worked. >>

<< I guess it did. >>

<< Can’t believe it worked. >>

<< What, bringing the long lost most brilliant human intelligence back to life by using a software and a couple hundred recordings? >> the holographic face grinned.

A sudden doubt crossed Morgan’s mind.

<< You planned this from the start? >>

<< Well, not from the start... >> he weasled out. << I just had a ton of totally narcissistic recordings hardly useful as working logs. >>

<< And so you devised this. >>

<< ...and you completed it. Teamwork. >> the hologram blabbered on, gesturing a lot more than necessary. << And they called _me_ an individualist. Take that, Pep. >>

A huge alarm bell rang at the simple mention.

<< She mustn’t know about this. >>

<< Of course not. >>

<< She’d freak out. >>

<< She’d kill us. >> he agreed. << Well, kill you and shut me off for good, I suppose. >>

The projection turned and shut its mouth.

Morgan was staring.

<< Still too soon for death jokes, eh, Maguna? >> he asked, folding his arms and laying on the desk. It somehow hurt.

<< Don’t call me like that. >>

<< You used to like it when I did. >>

<< When _he_ did. >> 

That came out a bit more hastily than she expected.

<< You’re not him. I’m sorry. It’s just not the same. >> she added then, looking away.

The AI seemed to process the information in a distinctively human way. He got up again, apparently focussing his entire attention on the objects on the table.

<< I suppose I need a name, then. >> he said after a while.

Morgan looked at him again.

<< If I’m not allowed to be Tony Stark, I mean. >> he explained. << _He_ used to do it. >>

<< You mean like Jarvis or Edith. >>

<< That was a good one. >>

<< That was lame. >> replied Morgan. << It even missed one letter. >>

<< Should I take Oscar_S_ as an homage, then? >>

Morgan couldn’t help a smirk.

She had actually thought about this. And there was always one name she couldn’t keep out of her mind.

<< How about Iron Man? >> she proposed hesitantly. << Just to keep it simple. Classic. >>

The AI seemed to think about it, evidently frowning in the effort.

<< It might work. Surely evocative, kinda catchy... >> he grinned back. << It’ll do. >>

A green light discretely blipped from Morgan’s watch laying upstairs on her bedside table.

<< It seems that the Stark Industries Non-executive for Boring Assessments and Decisions has uploaded the stylistic changes you requested. >> informed her Iron Man, through his connection with the central server running everything in the house. << Sinefbaad, what a charming name. >> it added, slyly.

<< Non-executive could be considered one word and prepositions don’t necessarily count in acronyms. >> she easily replied. << Sinbad, speak for yourself. >>

<< Sorry to interrupt. >> announced a male automated voice. << The text of the report has just been updated according to the stylistic data uploaded from the personal folder. >>

<< And I suppose all the trouble for the male name, voice and options, the almost neuter personality and the writing style change for the report are all because... >> kept saying Iron Man, probably spying Sinbad outlines while completely ignoring its message.

<< If mom knew I used her personality traits to devise an AI she’d freak out almost as much as if she knew about you. >>

<< You betcha. >>

<< The final version is ready for revision. >> Sinbad went on.

<< Don’t you think she’ll figure it out, eventually? >>

<< At least she would have to read the reports, first. And admit that she’s pleased with them. Argo, that the system actually works. >> Morgan said, outlining her little plan. << In the meantime, I try to buy as much time as possible by faking my writing style into it. >>

<< Should I print it out? >> asked Sinbad, stoically.

<< Plus, it saves me enough time to deal with something more interesting than the CEO training. >> she kept ignoring it. << Speaking of which, there’s something I’d like to show you. >>

<< ...or would you like me to display it on your pad? >>

<< Send it, I’m sure it’s fine. >> she ordered mindlessly. << And show us the recordings from today’s meeting at MIT. The last girl’s file, the one about nanotech. >>

<< You know, right, that I can read it from Sinbad’s hard drive? >> asked Iron Man.

<< Should I send it to Ms Potts or to Mr Logan? >>

A holographic copy of the committee room appeared in the lab and lights automatically dimmed.

<< Both of them. >> Morgan had her eyes fixed on the projection. << _I_ need to see it again. Sinbad, skip the recording to the projected presentation of the suit. >>

Shadows of young applicants walked back and forth with their projects in fast-forward, until the last girl and her blueprint took the stage.

<< Lose the girl, the room, the desk and the members of the committee. >>

The recording went on with the sole image of the armour that zoomed up to the particle structure.

<< Stop there. >> Morgan turned to Iron Man. << What do you think? >>

<< That’s interesting. >> he said. << But that’s not an armour, not as Mark 85 and the others at least. It’s just a... >>

<< A shield, exactly. >> she anticipated him. << An armour would need an AI to operate the system. >>

<< All the connection terminals need to be rearranged as nanoparticles themselves and intertwined with the fabric of the suit. >> his projected finger followed the particle structure as if drawing the missing set in the blank spaces. << Not easy, but not impossible either. >>

<< You mean you could do it? >>

The hologram turned to her with a grin.

<< I might not have his name, but I still got his brain. >> it said. << Plus, the structure has been clearly designed to host an AI’s terminals already. >> he added, looking back at the presentation. << Look. >>

Iron Man snapped his fingers and a second set of particles following the pattern of the pre-existing ones appeared out of nowhere.

<< It fits perfectly. >>

His index tapped on a specific lump and zoomed on it, then he got it spinning with a flick. 

The new chain adapted to the structure and blended into it as its natural continuation.

<< She knew this already, then. >> muttered Morgan, ‘and she hasn’t even used it for her presentation’, she thought to herself. << That girl is a genius. >> she added with a smile.

<< Why then did you exclude her from the grant? >> asked Iron Man.

Morgan looked at him blankly.

<< What did I do? >>

<< The report you just sent, it says she’s out of the programme. >>

<< No, it’s not... >> the words died on her lips.

It _was_ possible. Sinbad was programmed on her mother’s choices, after all.

<< Sinbad, project a copy of the report on the window screen. >>

<< Page 24, line 17. >> suggested Iron Man, helpfully.

The paragraph appeared on the glass surface.

_...the applicant Riri Williams is therefore not to be counted among those aptest to receive the grant due to..._

Morgan didn’t read further.

<< We need to change it. >>

<< I am sorry to point this out, but the reports have already been sent. >> reminded her the mechanical voice of Sinbad.

<< Have they accessed their email yet? >>

Sinbad took a second to check.

<< Apparently not yet. >>

Morgan grinned.

<< You have full access to the Stark Industries accounts and data. >> said Ironman trying to read her mind. << And you have already hacked your mother’s mail in the past forcing Friday’s security and overwriting its memory. >> he added, scanning through Oscar’s data. << But what about the MIT? >>

<< That’s the easy part. >> the grin on Morgan’s face broadened alarmingly, her thoughts going back to a couple of glorified memories of her school years. << I expect that by now all the students know how to do it. >>

That’s my thing, she thought to herself tapping on the board and selecting the typing mode.

Now, she only needed to find something that could convince Virginia Potts that an applicant researching on nanotech was somehow a good investment and not a threat. It was going to be a long night.

<< Oscar, I need some coffee. >>

  
She couldn’t tell if it was the ridiculously loud crash or the following furious pounding at the front door that really woke her up.

<< Facial recognition failed. >> she remotely heard Oscar saying. << Please stay still or prepare to be removed from the property. >>

Suddenly lucid, Morgan cast a quick glance around her. Iron Man was nowhere to be seen, but a pulsing blue light was shining in a circle on the board.

<< You let me in, you evil pri... >> shouted a familiar voice in all his anger.

<< Oscar, let him in. >>

<< Voice recognition successful. >> the door unlocked loudly. << Welcome Mr Hoogan, please be our honoured guest. >>

Morgan swiftly disengaged the microchip from its reader and secured it in her pocket and put on a smile as Happy stomped in the room red-faced and covered in sweat.

<< Good morning Hap... >>

<< Where were you? >>

Morgan shut up. That was his actually angry voice.

<< Your mother has been calling you,_ I_ have been calling you, all morning. What the hell were you doing? >>

<< I was here. I’ve been working late. >> she said defensively. << Oscar must have been upset because I muted her last night and... >>

<< You can’t do this. >>

<< I’m sorry, but... >>

<< No, no but. >> replied Happy rising his voice.

Morgan clenched the chip in her pocket, nervously. She had never seen him like that.

<< You can’t do this, Morgan. You can’t disappear like this and not answer your phone. It’s been hours. I’ve been worried. Your mother has been worried. We couldn't even hack in. Friday wasn't... We’ve been about to inform the police. >>

He finally paused to catch his breath.

<< What happened? >>


	5. Chapter four: Focus

<< There has been a theft in one of the MIT labs of engineering. >>

<< That’s it? >> 

Morgan could not believe her ears. Nor her eyes, considering the serious expression on her mother’s face. 

<< Happy crashed my front gate with his car this morning because there has been a breach in the MIT security? >> she asked with her most appalled tone. << I wonder how comes there are buildings still standing in the whole state. >>

<< It was one of the labs for the new applicants to the September Foundation grant. >> Ms Potts went on deciding to ignore her reaction. << Allotted to Miss Riri Williams, apparently. Does this name happen to ring any bell to you?>>

Morgan froze out.

<< Wasn’t it the girl, as I am reading from your unusually timely report, whom we should award the grant to ‘for her research on nanotechnology that would certainly prove useful and profitable in the field of security clothing’? >>

<< Has the log memory been checked? >> asked Morgan, feeling that with the MIT you could never take anything for granted. << Did she leave any record, blueprint or anything? >>

<< This girl has been building Iron Man suits and you didn’t think that that was... >>

<< Technically, they’re not armours. >>

<< They were admittedly designed over your father’s blueprints for Mark 85. >>

<< How do you even know this? >> it took no time for her to realize. << Did you spy on me? On my work? >>

<< When there are good reasons to believe that something potentially dangerous is going on under the patronage of the company I am directing, yes, I might be informed. >>

<< Oh, and did that do any good? >> Morgan fired back. << ‘Cause it looks to me that we’re dealing with a theft anyways. >>

<< That could have been worse. >>

Ms Potts seemed to take a suspicious pause to compose herself.

<< She came here. That’s how we found out about the theft at the MIT. Evidence shows that someone in a silver suit has tried to access a restricted area of the building. >>

<< Which area? >>

<< A storage, right downstairs. >> 

Something was wrong. Nobody could get into a Stark facility that easily. And even if they could, they would never make it out again. Unless they blasted the whole thing up, and, judging by the solid look of her mother’s office, it didn’t seem to be the case.

<< Why was I not informed? >> she asked. << Friday knows she has to lock everything up and alert every… >>

Their eyes accidentally met and she suddenly realized her mother’s were a bit too sympathetic for her taste.

<< Friday got the worst of it. >> she said in a slightly softened voice. << She’s not working anymore. >>

Morgan was struck dumb for a second.

Ms Potts looked away, pretending she hadn’t notice.

<< There’s something I need to show you. >> she hastened to add.

Morgan ignored this and took advantage of her distraction to tap gently on her earplug.

<< Search the internet. >> she ordered quickly. << Friday might have scattered into it as Jarvis did. >>

<< Roger. >> replied Iron Man’s voice, for her benefit only.

Unaware of a third presence in the room, Virginia Potts gave her daughter a weary look.

<< Morgan, we don’t have time for this now. >> she said gravely. << I know how much you care, but I need you to focus. I’m afraid we have more on the line than an AI. >>

<< Why was she here? What was she looking for? >>

She was angry, Pepper knew that she would be. She was her father’s daughter.

The old woman’s lips stiffened a bit.

<< There’s something I need to show you. >> she said once again.

This time, Morgan listened.

<< How comes I don’t know anything about this storage? >>

<< It’s restricted information. >> was her mother's stern answer.

A nod to one of the members of the security staff and another door opened to another corridor, apparently identical to all the others, except for its absolute desolation during a regular working shift. Without Friday running the place, a large number of grim-looking men with a badge had appeared all over the facility. The phones rang frantically at the reception as a team of newly recruited secretaries clumsily tried to redirect the calls to the right office.

<< Restricted to whom, exactly? >>

<< An extremely limited circle of trusted people. >>

Ms Potts’ march came to an alt as they reached a blast door on the right-hand side. 

<< Which I’m not part of. >>

Red light lasers scanned the woman’s face as she turned to a tiny camera on the wall.

<< Which you _were_ not part of, yes. >> she said as the door hissed open.

<< Welcome back Ms Potts. >>

The familiar polite voice with its thick Japanese accent was the last thing Morgan had expected.

<< Tadashi, I want you to grant Morgan unsupervised access to the storage. >>

<< It won’t let me in. >> warned Iron Man.

<< I want unlimited access to the database for Oscar and all the AIs associated with her. >> 

Her mother didn’t even flinch.

<< Granted. >> 

<< It will be my pleasure to share all my data with them. >> assured them Tadashi, gallantly.

Beyond the door, Morgan saw nothing but a working station, empty and surrounded by bare, gray walls. 

<< Projections. >> she realized. 

The shadow of a smile gleamed briefly on Ms Potts’ face.

<< Tadashi, please, show her everything. >>

The bafflement in Morgan’s expression grew as the lab progressively unveiled around her.

A row of glass cages appeared on both sides, the skeletons of old suits trapped inside shining in a familiar shade of blue light. The wall behind the central working station simply vanished, revealing the real extension of the room and various minor working bots scattered around the place. In the corners, smaller cages and a mix of various unfinished projects had been laid tidily together.

<< Is this...? >> she asked turning to her mother.

Ms Potts smiled a fragile smile and nodded.

<< I thought you had it dismantled after dad... >>

<< We had to move it here. >> she explained looking around with a caressing gaze. << You kept sneaking in the garage every time you could. It was just a matter of time before you’d find a way to activate some armour, shoot a laser or something of the sort. We decided it was the most sensible thing to do. >>

Morgan ignored the beaming glass cages and stepped towards the pile of unfinished projects.

<< Peter and James used to come here to fix their suits. Before the Demise, I mean. >>

A big gray case was lying in front of the others.

<< Who? >> asked Morgan, distracted.

Gray and smooth door, no latches. Only two red letters on the front: “I M”. Morgan smirked and turned back to her mother.

<< Peter Parker and James Rhodes. >> she was saying. << You know them, they were... >>

<< The Spider-Man and War Machine, you mean? >> Morgan sneered. << Yeah, I guess I’ve heard about them from somewhere. >>

Ms Potts threw her a strict glance.

<< They were the only ones, except me, to know about this place. >> she resumed her explanation. << And Friday overlooked its maintenance and protection. When yesterday I received the warning of one of the members of the September committee, I... >>

<< Who was it, by the way? >> interrupted Morgan surveying quickly the rest of the room. << Logan? Or some other professor trying to gain a good edge with the support of Stark Industries? >>

<< Whoever it was, thanks to them I decided to switch the control of the storage from Friday to Tadashi. >>

<< No external connection. >> informed her Iron Man. << Except for Friday and, well, now me and the team, no one could reach to Tadashi’s system. In fact, still no one can. >> the AI voice added.

<< My apologies for the interruption, but I am detecting a possible intrusion. >> announced in that very moment Tadashi itself. << I don’t believe their intentions to be hostile, but they seem to require Ms Potts’ urgent attention. >>

A holographic screen had appeared showing a worn-out secretary trying to move past the security with a phone in his hands.

Morgan was about to speak, but...

<< Let her go. >> whispered the voice in her ear. 

Ms Potts tightened her lips.

<< I’ll be right back. >> she said wearily, pacing towards the blast door.

<< Morgan. >> she added before the door shut close behind her. << Please don’t make me regret I’ve taken you here. >> 

<< You have already taken control of Stark Industries, haven’t you? >>

<< Was I not supposed to? >> was Ironman’s quick answer. << It’s the police, you’ll catch up later. First, Tadashi, show Morgan what happened to Friday. >>

The projection of the familiar shape appeared in the middle of the room. It had grown, Morgan couldn’t help noticing, since the last time she had worked on it.

<< Apparently there have been two successful accesses from an external hardware. >> recapped Tadashi, as the projection fast-forwarded showing minor movements in its configuration. << At about 1.30 am, Ms Potts’ personal account experienced a break-in taking advantage of… >>

<< Yeah, let’s skip to the second. >> interrupted Iron Man.

The projection had zoomed on a section Morgan knew very well.

<< At 4.37 am, a second unauthorized access came through using the same security lapse as the first one. >> 

The section coloured in red.

<< From this time, I esteem it could have taken about seventeen seconds for the system to be taken over completely. >>

The red light spread like an infection to the entire projection.

<< During this window, Friday was able to successfully cut all its connections to other AIs in order to prevent a possible contagion. >>

<< Oscar confirms. >> said Iron Man, anticipating her question.

Morgan looked at the hologram and noticed it had paused.

<< What happened next? >>

An infected system was still a system. The problem at Stark Industries was that there was no system at all.

<< From the moment my connection to Friday had been cut, no further recordings are available. >> clarified Tadashi. << The most likely projection, however… >>

The hologram started fading from its centre, the main control sector, the sentient brain of the whole computer, still not affected by the infection.

<< You’re telling me she committed suicide? >>

Morgan’s voice was steady, her eyes dry and her gaze sharp. Her hands, however, were clenching the edge of the working station to the point of turning her knuckles white.

<< This would also explain why there are no traces of her on the internet. >> added Iron Man.

<< All Iron Man related Stark technology follows the same guidelines of a protection protocol which also includes self-destruction in order to preserve both the other systems and humans. >>

<< Sure it does. >> commented Morgan, bitterly.

Ironman took the initiative and prevented Tadashi to offer further explanations. The lab fell silent for a while.

<< Have they found her? >> asked Morgan in the end. << That’s what the police was calling for? >>

<< It's not like I'm hacking private conversations with public officers over the phone, Little Miss. >>

<< But? >>

Had they been in the security of her own lab, Ironman hologram would have grinned at this point.

<< There have been several sightings of someone clumsily stumbling on New York buildings in a suit. >> it said letting some muted videos run on a screen. << The internet is going crazy about it. >>

Morgan was focussing on the snappy images. The silver suit kept falling off and flying unsteadily.

<< It’s the AI. >> she diagnosed. << Whatever she’s using to operate the system, it’s not good enough. >>

Then something caught her eye.

<< Project a map of the city and its surroundings. >> she requested briskly. << I want signposts on every location of the sightings ordered chronologically. >>

A series of dotting marks appeared over the scale model of New York City blipping red in a zigzagging but almost clear progression. Morgan’s jaw tensed.

<< I want all the Iron Man’s suits operative and ready. >>

A series of locks unlocked as she quickly made it to the door.

<< I’m afraid I can’t let you out. >> informed her Tadashi. << Ms Potts’ orders. >>

<< Iron Man. >> Morgan commanded.

Three suits raised their arms and a mixed laser blast fired on the door, piercing it open.

Morgan walked out, heading for the parking lot. She saw a couple of men from the security approaching from the corridor, alerted by the explosion. Still confused, they let her through. They still didn’t know they had to stop her, the message hadn’t still reached all of the staff. Morgan knew it was just a matter of time. But after all, they only had to try.

<< Alert Oscar, cut all her possible access from external servers. She’s not gonna like it, but I don’t care. >> she ordered to her earplug without bothering to whisper anymore. << Get the whole house in full protection mode. >>

She was not going to let anyone touch her work. Not like this, not ever. Not after what she had done to Friday.

Morgan caught a glimpse of a man with a badge pointing at her.

<< Iron Man, we can make a shield out of the pieces of the most damaged suits. >> she was thinking out loud. << Throw a chest piece at anyone who tries to stop me and pin them down to the ground. Disarm them, but don’t get them hurt. >>

They couldn’t stop her.

She was going home.


	6. Chapter five: Engage

<< _That_ one? >>

The most expensive sport car in the whole parking lot had just blipped open.

<< Why not one of ours? >>

<< Technically, it _is_ one of ours, as the company fully provides for any kind of travel expense. >> Iron Man pointed out. << Plus, it has the best tech around here and that makes it easier for me to control it. Plus, okay, I admit it, I like the damn car. >>

<< For you to control it? >> Morgan hissed back. << I can drive. >>

A loud pounding came from the window wall on the floor just above her. It was Happy, his face redder than ever, his silent scream condensing on the soundproof glass. Good thing she had Iron Man locking up the whole building. It would take Tadashi sometime to unlock it, he had assured her.

<< Honestly, I’ve seen your last driving records and, right now, I don’t think we have time enough. >>

<< But... >>

<< Listen, it’s either me or Happy, if you think you can convince him. >>

Morgan looked up and she thought she could read the spell of a threat on the guy’s lips.

<< Hit it. >> she gave up and got hastily into the car.

<< Belt up. >>

The engine roared and, as soon as the belt clicked in place, Morgan felt pressed against the back of the leather-covered seat. The tires jumped on the curb and cut thrown the lawn just in front of the main entrance of Stark Industries.

<< What the hell are you doing? >> she screamed gripping on the wheel which moved on its own.

<< Just a short cut. >>

The map on the control board lightened up showing an almost straight line from Stark Industries to Morgan’s house. The girl highly doubted that that could in any way agree with the official road map of New York City. Red dots sided their path, with times on them. A new one popped up in real-time a long way on the left of their line.

<< A new sighting? >> she guessed.

<< Yep. The kid seems to be doing pretty bad. >>

A video materialized on a portion of the front window. The amateur quality of the recording and the distance made it difficult for Morgan to catch a glimpse of something falling and failing to get a grip to the nearest building, tearing it up to pieces in its wake.

Morgan frowned as a new idea dawned on her.

<< Can you show me an inventory of what we have in the storage? >>

<< I thought you’d never ask. >> was the AI’s prompt reply.

The video was downsized and shoved into a corner while new screen window appeared showing a selection of armours’ models complete with taglines and blueprints of the underlying structures. Something caught Morgan’s eye. Something big.

<< What’s this? >>

It was not even an armour, just a module. But the blueprint had something definitely promising about it.

<< Oh, that’s good ol’ Veronica. >>

The module split into two different parts. The one on the left composed itself in an armour-like shape, while the other...

<< It was designed to contain a possible Hulk threat, well I say possible... >>

<< Show me how you used it. >>

Screams and screeching brakes. And pieces of concrete falling from the sky.

That’s what agent Carson found as his squad car reached the new emergency point. The phones at the station had been ringing frantically in the last hour, the common screen map had covered in blipping red dots as if it had caught the measles. He had seen the recordings, but being there was entirely different. It looked a bit like the history videos he had seen. The ones before the Demise and all. His dad kept telling stories of when he was a young cop working alongside the Avengers before everyone knew them.

Agent Carson had always envied his father for that. Now he wasn’t too sure.

<< Standard procedure, boys. >> he commanded grabbing his augmented binoculars. << Men in the building, people down and away from the streets and let’s set the perimeter one block away in every direction. >>

<< Got it. >> he heard one of his men saying on the other side of the transceiver.

He let the lenses auto-focus and give him details. A human-shaped silhouette was highlighted beyond the rubble by the system and it was... climbing.

Something in agent Carson’s chest sank. It was since he was a little kid that he hadn’t seen...

A new rumbling sound caught his attention, as new screams welcomed it from the street. It looked like a big bullet and it was rocketing towards the building. Carson stuck his eyes into the binoculars again. The lenses isolated the logo before the thing divided into a set of splinters. Stark Industries, it read. One of the pieces violently hit the climbing figure that lost its grip and found itself unsteadily floating in the air for a moment. Then another splinter hit it, and another, and another.

<< Everybody out of the street! >> Carson screamed at the top of his voice, noticing the steep angle.

Grabbing in as many people they could, the cruisers started up and backed away.

<< I want all the cars to cordon off the area at both ends of the street. >> Carson ordered clenching hectically his transceiver in one hand and the binoculars in the other. << I want every single person from the fronting buildings evacuated within minutes. Use backdoors, emergency exits, I don’t care, just stay out of the street and be fast. >>

The figure managed to clumsily dodge and hit a couple of pieces that went flying and smashed on the ground and on the front part of some eleventh floor.

<< She’s fighting back. >>

<< I can see that. >>

The car violently steered on the left and Morgan grabbed to the door tightly, her eyes glued on the screen. Clumsy as the management of her suit could be, the William girl was still more in control than she had expected, and Veronica was no match for her. It was time to level up.

She scrolled quickly through her inventory.

<< Activate Mark 45. >> she commanded. << Send it to the scene. We’re going on remote control. And... >> 

Morgan gave a rapid glance to their route on the map.

<< I already changed it. >> Iron Man informed her. The new destination was the current fighting field. << She’s not going any further than that. >>

<< I want Mark 68 and Mark 72 at my place. Shared control between you and Oscar. >>

<< Is that a back-up plan? >> blurted Iron Man. << _That_’s new. >>

Morgan rolled her eyes. 

<< Mark 45 about to reach the target point. >> added the AI.

All the screens shrank and a view of north-east New York from the sky covered the front window. Working notes appeared in conveniently located positions according to their relevance.

<< Is this the inside of the hub? >>

Suddenly it came back to her as, years ago, back at the house on the lake, she used to try so hard to see what this was like. Every time she managed to wear a helmet, Friday systematically shut her out of any possible control, on her father’s order, leaving her just a little girl with a mask. The smile that had sneaked on her face broke. They were both gone now. Leaving her a bigger girl, alone, in the hub.

<< That’s it, Little Miss. >> Iron Man answered. << Are you ready? >>

No, she was not alone.

She clenched her fists on the automated wheel and examined quickly the way the information was organized on the screen. Just enough to get the gist of it.

Soon, the scene of the battlefield from above enlarged from a far glimpse among the skyscrapers to the full screen. The armour has slowed down to an alt. Autopilot went off. It was time. Morgan took a deep breath.

When he got to see it, agent Carson couldn’t believe his eyes.

<< Is that... ? >> asked him his colleague peering from above the wheel.

No need for an answer. A flying robot in a flashing red and golden armour, that left not very much room for imagination. It had landed just in front of them and just in time. The piece of metal heading to their car only a few seconds before bounced on the armour stance and dropped heavily on the ground.

Morgan took a quick glance around. That had been a close one, she was not entirely sure she and Ironman could catch another.

<< There’s too many people around, disable Veronica and keep her in standby for later. >>

She looked up. The silver suit was hanging on a shattered fire escape staircase.

She didn’t trust her propellers, Morgan realized. She couldn’t let her time enough to recalibrate them.

<< Head to the target, full speed. >>

The red suit rocketed up towards the silver one, almost smashing to the already battered wall of the building when the latter jumped on the lower flight of stairs.

The firing options appeared on the screen beside a targeting viewfinder.

<< What are you doing? I want a close combat, no weapons. >> Morgan screamed, startled and shocked.

<< I have no independent fighting skills uploaded on my system. >>

There was no time for this. The girl was already running away, jumping downwards from floor to floor.

<< Follow her and block her. >> she commanded quickly. << Try to pin her on the ground, if you can. >>

As she kept an eye on the scene, Morgan tried to figure out what to do next. She put her hand through her pocket and fished out her pad screen.

<< Sindbad, project a holo on me, waist up. >> she said, securing the device on the dashboard as best as she could. << Make sure it follows any movement I do, okay? >>

She moved back her seat to make the most out of the limited space she had and probed a couple of fists in the air. The projection seemed to follow.

<< Iron Man, can you see that? >> she asked, then.

<< You mean, while I drive, fly two suits to your place and try to catch the villain with another? >> he replied while the silver armour managed to slip from beneath him taking advantage of her more manageable size. << Sure, Little Miss, piece of cake.>>

<< I’ll take control of the fight waist up. On my mark. >>

<< Wait a sec. >>

The red suit literally fired its arms.

Agent Carson zoomed on it in pure disbelief.

The silver figure was hit on the back and fell over the banister. The red suit followed it mid-air, reconnecting its arms to the main body.

<< Engage, now! >> 

The two armours met in the air. A side slam from the red one hit to meet the silver’s collarbone and sent it flying another direction.

<< Whatever I do, make sure you keep us close. >> commanded Morgan.

The red suit averted its route to follow and Carson’s eyes ran back to its opponent.

<< Shit. >>

It was trying to take aim, still unsteady in its fall.

The laser missed the target of a few inches and hit the building on the other side of the street scratching it badly. The red armour rushed towards the silver one, ready to fire again.

<< I said, keep us close. >>

A second laser beam hit and pierced the red armour a second before it got within arm-reach.

With her hands joined together as high as the car’s roof allowed, Morgan stroke hard downwards.

The blow hit the silver suit right on the chest. The red legs hooked on the silver truck and the two robots plummeted together towards the pavement.

<< She’s not using her propellers to slow down. >> warned Iron Man.

Morgan stared in horror at the surface getting closer at dizzying speed. They were falling from too high, gravity was accelerating them too hard.

<< Open up the suit and cage her in. >>

Agent Carson hadn’t even noticed the expensive Bugatti that had somehow parked just behind the police cord. Nobody had.

The big red mass falling from the sky was enough to take up all of their attention.

It was a loud crash when it hit the ground.

It was a surprise, then, when he saw someone step over his car running towards the stack of metal laying in the middle of the road.

<< Is she alive? >> Morgan asked hastily to her earplug. << Can you read her pulse? >>

<< She’s alright. >> replied Iron Man. << I’m fine, by the way, thanks for asking. >>

<< Are you...? >> asked a third, feeble voice from the inside of his suit.

Morgan froze on the spot.

<< She passed out. >> informed her Iron Man after a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!  
This has been a terribly hard chapter to write.  
I'm not extremely good at action sequences in my own language, in English it has been exhausting. If something isn't clear, please let me know and, if you can, please help me make it better. I hope that more or less you can get the gist of it, anyway.
> 
> See ya,  
M.


	7. Chapter six: The Bigger Stick

It had been a long time since Christine Everhart had personally been to a conference. But after all, it had been a long time since anything interesting had happened in the field of superheroes. And as ever, everything seemed to happen at once. She was just examining the latest report from the National Agency, when the news of some robots wrecking havoc in New York City had come through.

So now there she was, among younger anchormen and women in smart suits, all anxious of getting their face and signature on the news of the year. She couldn’t help a smile watching them, which they reciprocated with suspicious glances, probably wondering who might be that old woman and why she was sitting with the press. Their interest in her, however, didn’t last long, as soon the door opened and no less than the Stark Industries CEO Virginia Potts lead the way of the small congregation towards the four chairs behind the table. Flashes flashed like lightening in a storm and holo-recorders and cameras clicked on ready to greedily devour any word or move of the assorted quartet facing them from the stage.

Smiling, Miss Everhart tapped gently on the side of her reading glasses, as if to straighten them on her nose. Data appeared within her view, framing one by one each face she focussed on and downloading automatically all relevant details for her to review later. On Ms Potts’ right, the dull figure of Mr Logan, current Headmaster of MIT, was clearly enjoying all the press attention. Ms Potts herself, instead, presented a much more interesting display of emotions, to a trained eye. Despite her composed expression and the reassuring tone of her voice, the old journalist noticed the subtle strain of her tensed jaw and the way she slightly pressed her hands together. On the far left there was some fairly uninteresting character from Stark Industries’ public relations sector, whose relevant details could be read in a matter of seconds.

Sitting on her mother’s left, however, with her eyes obstinately pointed downwards and her hands clenched together and buried underneath the table, was the real star of the conference, as well as the only person who clearly showed how much she would have liked to be any place else than there. Morgan Howard Stark, the details ran on the lenses.

A sudden silence fell on the crowded room. Ms Potts had stood up from her seat.

<< As grateful as I am for the constant interest showed for our company by the press, I’m afraid the most of you will find this conference disappointing. >> she said with one of the best faked smiles Christine Everhart had ever witnessed. << I know what many of you hope to report back to your directors and studios. I myself have already read sensational headlines about the return of superheroes and also of... Iron Man himself. >>

That had been an incredibly slight pause, but Christine didn’t miss it.

<< What actually happened, >> Ms Potts carried on. << Is that both Stark Industries and MIT have experienced a very serious breach in their security systems at the hands of one of the most gifted students who has ever applied to our September Foundation programme, and who had been granted access to a series of materials and projects still under development. >>

<< Is that true that Riri Williams had been rejected from the programme? >> interrupted a young journalist, quickly pointing back her recorder.

The late reaction of the public relations manager to the interruption was silenced by a firm gesture of Ms Potts’ hand.

<< As for any of the other students, her application was still under evaluation. >> she answered calmly.

Gregory Hardley, a fierce young pen from The Herald, took his chance to stand up.

<< How is it possible that a sixteen-year-old could break into the main building of the most advanced technological company in the world? >>

Ms Potts retorted at him with a cold smile.

<< I guess that’s an inconvenience to take into account when you consider only the brightest minds for your programmes. >>

<< Shouldn’t you also take into account the possible consequences of handing over a bunch of kids the most sophisticated tools and research that a company like Stark Industries has to offer? >>

<< It has been our policy for years to entrust new generations with the most advanced research, yes, in order to fully develop their potential. >>

Hardley sneered.

<< Is that why you’re still in charge of the company at your age? >> he asked slyly. << Because you trust full potential of younger generations? >>

A shade of pure rage glowered in the CEO’s blue eyes, but not a muscle on her face twitched.

<< Or is that because your daughter, Morgan Stark, is more interested in playing with big red robots instead of taking up the reins of the family business? >>

A tense silence fell over the room, as all eyes fell over the Stark girl silently staring at the table before her.

<< The Iron Man suit you mentioned was simply a tool of the old Stark Industries Safety Protocol. >> Ms Potts answered coldly. << It has been activated as soon as the central system recovered from the serious damage Miss Williams had inflicted it. >>

<< So I guess that the fact that the whole building lock-down accident is to be conveniently ascribed on the same faulty protocol. >>

<< As soon as the new AI took over the management of the building, all safety procedures... >>

<< Witnesses from Stark Industries have reported a blast and a series of ‘accidents’ surrounding Miss Stark as she simply walked out of the locked-up building. >> bluntly interrupted her Hardley. << Do you have any explanation for that... >> he added as his smile sharpened. <<... Miss Stark? >>

The girl’s eyes jumped from the table to the crowd for a second, only to be diverted a moment later.

<< I... >> she murmured at first.

She gulped visibly.

<< The AI configuration is designed to respond to the highest executive orders. >> she muttered at last, avoiding eye contact.

<< And why did it respond to you, then? >>

Hardley’s mockery was welcomed with some giggling from the press.

<< Because I was the one who configured it in the first place. >>

Morgan Stark’s gaze was now fixed upon her opponent, and her voice sounded steadier. It was just an instant, but Christine could not help noticing that the Stark surname wasn’t the only legacy Tony had left behind. She smiled to herself and raised her hand before Hardley’s next honestly predictable question.

<< Does this mean that the old Iron Man technology responds mainly to your orders, Miss Stark? >> she asked candidly.

The girl’s eyes had already lost that glimpse of confidence that had animated them for a moment.

<< The suit itself is a separate entity from the main AI that runs the facility. It only responded to a pre-ordered set of instructions. >> said Ms Potts taking the floor from her daughter again. << All Morgan did, was following the already acting procedure and tracking down Miss Williams as soon as possible, Miss Everhart. >>

The journalist pride swelled a bit as an impressed mumbling followed the mention of her name.

<< I live in the hope that this ‘procedure’, as you call it, could be controlled before it becomes a threat and, for as I understand it, your daughter has just admitted she is the one person your system recognizes as the highest authority. Some might argue that configuring and controlling high-tech weapons and suits is what made your late husband, Tony Stark, the greatest hero of all times. >>

Ms Potts’ lips stiffened, but didn’t move. Christine knew she couldn’t stop now.

<< In the turmoil of these last hours there’s a piece of news whose importance many may have missed. >> she said in a deliberately calm voice. << The NASA has recently reported an intense activity coming from outer space and reverberating across the whole galaxy. If I remember correctly, >> she said as the exact reference appeared on the screen of her glasses. << observers described it as a ‘sudden compression of matter’ matched by a slight change in some orbital systems of our galaxy. Not such a different description from the one given twelve years ago, when the Demise happened. >>

A thick silence was surrounding her every word now.

It was Ms Potts that broke the silence.

<< I don’t see how this affects the issue here discussed. >> her face had turned a shade paler. << If no one has any more pertinent... >>

<< Tony Stark once told me that peace meant having a bigger stick than the other guy. >> for the first time, Christine had to raise her voice. << Whatever it is that has taken the Avengers from us twelve years ago might be back soon, and there’s no superheroes left to defend us. And now, >> she turned to Morgan again, meeting her confused brown eyes. << it appears that your daughter has begun to master some of her father’s skills. It’s public knowledge that, right until the Demise itself, Stark Industries has been the most advanced institution to research and conduct exploration, not always completely transparent, on the subject of interplanetary relations, siding and supporting Doctor Strange and the New Avengers until the very end. I’m afraid that that, Ms Potts, >> she added articulating slowly. << is the bigger stick planet Earth has at the moment. And it seems to be in your daughter’s hands. >>

It took a couple of seconds before the chaos took over.

As flashes and questions poured on them, Ms Potts stood up and turned to her daughter.

<< Morgan, get out of here. >> she told her switching off her microphone.

Morgan couldn’t move. Her eyes couldn’t seem to find the strength to part from the same dull spot where her hands had been fidgeting with the fabric of the cloth.

<< Morgan! >> she heard her mother calling again.

She gulped again and raised her eyes for a second. Her gaze met the blue light in the eyes of the old journalist who had started all that mess and seemed to enjoy it a great deal. The woman smiled at her. Morgan got up from her chair and managed to reach the door protected by a line of bodyguards.

Behind her back she could hear her mother’s voice trying to take control over the chaos and the questions darting from the little crowd. Morgan kept walking in a straight line, without turning or stopping. As the door closed behind her she leaned on it pensively.

<< Iron Man? >> she called after a couple of seconds.

The micro-earplug activated automatically without a sound, while her eyes slid on the small office surrounding her without actually seeing any of it.

<< Do you happen to know anything about the NASA’s database protection system? >>


End file.
